


Teach (Your Children)

by vernie_klein



Series: Like the Heart Goes [19]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Child Neglect, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Part Nineteen in a Series, Pre-Series, Pre-Slash, Technical Child Abuse, Weechesters, an interlude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-24 21:26:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4935916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vernie_klein/pseuds/vernie_klein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Part Nineteen in the Series</i>
</p><p> </p><p>John Winchester isn't going to win Parent of the Year... But what he's doing to Dean? Well... They say "What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stronger"<br/>An Interlude Flashback to the time of the WeeChesters. </p><p> </p><p>  <i>This is the story of Sam and Dean Winchester. Not the story we've seen played out on our television screens a million times, but the story of what happened to get them to where they are today. The story of two brother's souls, so tightly woven together, that neither can be whole.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Teach (Your Children)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wantAwinchester](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wantAwinchester/gifts).



> I dedicate this work to wantAwinchester. Without her, I wouldn't have decided to write this. She loves my boys, so I figured that I would give her a surprise treat. This came to me after hearing a song I had heard a million times, but heard for the first time while writing Supernatural fiction. Have a dose of John Winchester's A+ Parenting... Part of why Sam and Dean are _SamAndDean_.
> 
> The title is from the song _Teach your Children_ written by Graham Nash (When he was with the Hollies) of Crosby, Stills, and Nash and performed by Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young.
> 
> Not Beta'd any mistakes are mine.

**Teach (Your Children)**

****02 November 1987****

Dean was lounging on the motel bed reading a comic book to Sammy when John came in. At eight, Dean was _wicked_ smart. Smarter than John could have ever hoped in the situation they were in. He was very quiet, but John expected that. Research was hard and the boys needed to be silent while he worked. John explained things to Dean and he repeated them back, word for word. He didn’t ask questions, just sat there in silence unless he was talking to Sam. 

Which, John thought, was where the problem lied. Sam talked to no one except Dean. Dean would talk to adults, people in authority, he would talk when John wanted him to. Sam _never_ talked. Dean claimed he asked all kinds of questions. Sam could tell Dean what he wanted with just a glance. Dean gestured to Sam and he knew _exactly_ what Dean meant. Every once and a while, Sam would tug Dean’s sleeve and pull him down to whisper in his ear. Dean would speak in soft tones, relaying Sam’s message to John or Bobby. John hadn’t even known Sam could speak until he was two. He never cooed or made typical baby noises. Dean had told him that Sam had been talking since he was eight months old. 

Since Mary had died, the boys were inseparable. Dean had changed Sammy’s diapers, fed him his bottle and potty trained him and taught him to talk. He taught Sam how to hold hands crossing the street and to not chew with his mouth open. John was so consumed with grief and revenge that he never noticed Sammy could do any of these things. He noticed that the boys weren’t like other brothers. Dean was patient and understanding with Sam. He whispered constantly in Sam’s ear, explaining why he had to look both ways, or why it was important to wash his hands after using the restroom or before eating. John knew his son was the glue that kept the family together. Dean was the one that kept CPS off their back and kept Sammy quiet during the day at the motel while John was out following leads. So, it made sense that John allowed Sam the luxury of sleeping with Dean wrapped around him in a small cocoon. They couldn’t always get a cot for Sam, so John would get two beds and give Dean one. Dean would sleep lightly, his arms bracketing Sam in to keep him from falling off the bed in the middle of the night. John didn’t like it, but Sam would cry without his brother.

He turned again to look at his boys and just watched as Sam pointed out the pictures in the comic Dean was reading. He watched as Dean buried his face into Sam’s baby soft hair. Dean looked up at John and smiled. He noticed that the smile wasn’t really genuine, and tried to smile back but it was bittersweet. He knew they needed to move in the next few days and hated what it would do to Dean. John had thought about continuing to Homeschool Dean, but Bobby thought it best that Dean make some friends. John argued that Dean making friends would keep him from protecting Sam. That and if he needed to uproot the boys, Dean would be heartbroken. John told Dean these things- about how you can only count on family… How Dean had Sam and didn’t need anyone else… That it was his job to be a _good little soldier_ , to protect Sammy… Watch out for his little brother… That someday, Dean would appreciate Sam having his back.

John nodded to Dean and picked up the bottle of whisky sitting on the table. He didn’t _want_ to drown his sorrows, but today… “Son, I need to talk to you.” John called over to Dean from the small kitchenette. He watched as Dean whispered to Sam and placed his hands in the right spot to _read_ his comic book. Dean stepped up to John and stood, hands behind his back, waiting. 

“Dean, we’re gonna be moving in a few days. When we get to where we’re going, you’re not going back to school. You’re gonna stay and take care of Sammy, okay?”

“Yes, sir.” Dean stated. 

“So, you need to tell your friends goodbye. Let them know you’ll miss them.” John stared down at his eldest, the boy stoic- waiting. “We’re leaving on Thursday. So your last day will be-”

“Tomorrow- Wednesday. Got it.” Dean replied in a curt monotone voice. “Don’t have anybody to say goodbye to, Sir. But I did check out a few books for Sammy from the library. I’ll see if they have the rest in the series before we leave.”

John ruffled Dean’s hair, his hands snagging on the loose curls. “Gotta cut your hair, little soldier. It’s starting to curl at the ends.”

“I can take Sammy and go tomorrow after school. There is a barber in town giving five dollar kids cuts.”

“Okay.” John pulled out his wallet and counted five ones from the thick stack. “Here you go. I’d give you more-”

“It’s okay, Sir. A haircut is all I need.” Dean folded the bills in thirds and put the money in his front pocket. “Anything else? Sam needs a bath before bed.”

“I’m gonna head out for a bit. I’ll be back later, okay?”

“Yes, Sir.” Dean pursed his lips. 

John ignored the face Dean made and stood from the chair. He made his way to the door, stopping with his hand on the knob. “Dean, what are the rules?”

“Don’t answer the phone or the door. Don’t break the salt lines, Stay quiet.”

“And?” John opened the door, the cold night air coming in.

“Watch out for Sammy.” 

John knew that Dean thought Sam was his. His to look after, his to protect. He guessed that instilling the idea in Dean at an early age wasn’t a _bad_ thing. Dean had a knife. It wasn’t much of a threat, but John was going to get him a bigger one for his birthday. He had Dean out shooting cans with a .22. Always at Bobby’s, never around Sam. John wanted to shelter his youngest son for as long as he could. Dean had learned about the supernatural at six when John was laid up briefly at Pastor Jim’s from a werewolf, he asked too many questions then that John couldn’t answer without telling him the truth. It was the last time Dean acted like a child really, now that John thought about it. He hated leaving Dean in charge, but it was a necessity more often than not. 

John nodded, stepped through the door and shut it tight behind him. He hardened his face, there was nothing he could do now. Bobby would be mad, but what was new. He would still take the boys when John needed him to. Pastor Jim was always an option… John just didn’t want to leave the boys with Jim for too long. A church was no place to raise kids. He slinked himself to the car and drove to the nearest bar.

**xxx**

John stumbled to the door and pushed it open as he fell forward. He hadn’t meant to get _that_ drunk, but he needed to do something- _anything_ to block out the pain. He tripped on the kickplate, not as quiet as he thought he had been and smiled as two small arms surrounded him, holding him up. Dean guided him to the empty bed and pulled off his boots.

“Let’s get you to bed, Dad.” Dean whispered as he covered John with the blanket.

“Dean- So… sorry.” John stuttered as his breath began to hitch. “I just-”

“It’s okay, Dad. Sammy and I are okay. He had some supper, took a bath. I read a little to him. We’re fine. It’s fine.” Dean yawned and ran his small hand through John’s hair.

“It’s just-” John started.

“It’s okay, Dad. I miss her too.”

**xxx**

John woke to Dean dressing Sam for the day. He heard a whispered _but I don’ wanna_ before Dean shushed him and smiled. John grumbled and turned his head. He saw the glass of water and two white pills on the stand and couldn’t help but smile. He swallowed down the pills and took in his surroundings. The boys’ bed was made, military corners and all. Dean had Sam at the table now, a bowl of knock off Captain Crunch in front of him. John felt a stab of guilt as Dean was leaning against the counter, a piece of dry toast- the heel, in his hand. He figured he would need to do _something_ to get the boys enough money for groceries. That meant keeping Dean home from school on what was supposed to be his last day. It really would just be easier to Homeschool Dean all of the time. That way, he could go out during the day and work on cases.

“Dean.” John looked up at his eldest. He waited until Dean nodded to continue. “Change of plans. I need you to stay home with Sam today. Need to go get some cash for the trip.”

John watched as Dean scrunched his face, clearly upset about something. John knew it wasn’t about missing school, Dean had already said it was fine. He wondered what it could be. Dean nodded and John caught Sam’s expression change in his periphery. Sammy’s face lit up the room at the knowledge Dean would be home with him.

“Gonna take Sam to the library then. There’s a few books he wants to read.”

John nodded. “Sure kiddo.” He got up off the bed and walked to the bathroom to shower and change for the day. The boys could handle themselves.

**xxx**

Dean and Sam made their way across the broken pavement of the motel parking lot toward the sidewalk. Dean made sure that Sammy held his hand the _entire_ time. It was 10AM. Dean knew it was too early to get his haircut, but late enough that the library would be open. Dean stood his ground as Sammy pulled him in excitement toward the large brick building.

“De! De! The liabraly!” Sam whispered excitedly.

“It’s called a library, Sammy.” Dean smiled down at his baby brother. “Say it slower… Remember your ‘r’s.”

“Li-br-airy.” Sam repeated slowly.

“Right.” Dean laughed. “That’s better. You’re not a heathen. No matter what anyone says.”

Sam glanced up at his brother and stopped. Dean bit his lip at the smile on Sammy’s face. His whole body lit up when Dean gave him any type of praise. Dimples appeared on the little boy’s face and his eyes lit up like a million Suns. 

“You didn’ hafta go ta school, huh, De?” Sammy began walking again.

“Nope. Cause I had to watch your stinky head.” Dean laughed as they crossed the street _after_ looking both ways. They headed down the stone walkway and up the stairs into the large library.

Dean led Sammy back to the children’s section. This one had a huge area devoted to little kids. They made their way over to the section where all of the serialized reference books were kept. Dean picked a few on sciencey things Sam liked- Stars and Physics. Dean couldn’t for the life of him figure out why a four year old needed to know about Physics, but he didn’t argue. Sam had one of those memories where once he knew something he would be able to recite it back perfectly. Even after months. Dean knew, he tested him. Of course, this helped Dean out a lot. He could read books to Sam and Sam would remember everything. He grabbed two books on Mechanics and pulled Sam over to the fiction section.

“Now, Sammy- remember… We’re leaving town tomorrow.” Dean leaned down and whispered in Sam’s hair. “So, make sure that you get all the books you need.” Dean pulled the ratty backpack off Sam’s back and set it down on the table with all of the books they had picked out.

“De?” Sammy whispered back. “Do they have comic books for you?”

Dean ruffled Sam’s hair. “Of course they do.”

**xxx**

Dean and Sam walked from the Barber Shop out into the bright November sun. Dean tightened Sammy’s coat around him and made a mental note to tell John that he needed a new one. The zipper stuck on it. It had been given to Dean after the fire by the nice Red Cross ladies. It was used then, but now… It needed to be thrown in the dumpster. Dean didn’t have a coat, but he did have an oversized sweatshirt and long sleeved shirt under. His hair was shorn short- not too short though, but it would work. His mom always kept it longer when he was little. Sammy hated haircuts. Dean had a little pair of sharp scissors that he used to keep Sam’s hair out of his eyes, but other than that-

“De? Can I have my lolly now?” Sam smiled at his Dean.

“Yeah.” Dean unwrapped Sam’s sucker and handed the sweet over to the four year old. “Don’t bite, just suck. Don’t need ya chokin’, do we?”

Sam shook his head and popped the sweet into his mouth. They made their way back to the motel and let themselves in. Dean noticed that John _still_ wasn’t back. He glanced at the clock on the bedside table- 4:30PM. Dean shook his head. They hadn’t had lunch since John had only given Dean enough money for a haircut.

“Go sit and watch tv, Sammy. Imma find you something to eat, ‘kay?” Dean watched as Sammy walked to the tv and flipped on the news. Dean always thought it was strange, but then again- that was Sam.

Dean made his way over to the beat up mini-fridge and cracked the door- nothing. He shook his head and walked over to John’s duffel. There was a can of _veg-all_ and a can of vienna sausages. He pulled both of the dented cans from the bag, followed by John’s multi-tool. He sighed as he groped around for some bread. The bag was empty. Dean set the cans on the counter and started on the sausages with the multi-tool. He knew John had used it when he was in Vietnam. It was a cool piece of history. He finished opening the cans and dumped both, liquid and all into the dinged up pot he had pulled from the table. They didn’t have a stove at this motel, so Dean pulled out his lighter and carefully lit the little propane camp stove John had bought. He adjusted the knob to keep the water from boiling away and scrounged up a spoon and bowl from the bucket in the bathroom.

He sighed as he dumped the vegetables and meat into Sam’s bowl. Dean set it on the table and walked over to where Sam was watching a report on the state of Homelessness in America. Dean flipped the switch and bracketed his hips with his hands. “Sammy. Food.”

“But, De…” Sammy whined. 

“Com’on, Sam. It’s sausages.” Dean smiled and pulled Sam from the bed. “Let’s go get you washed up, yeah? You’re all sticky from your candy…”

Sam nodded and padded into the bathroom to wash his face and hands. Dean waited patiently for Sam to sit down and eat. “De… You gonna eat?”

Dean sat at the other place at the table and folded his hands. He was _starving_... All he had to eat that day was a heel of white toast. There really wasn’t enough of the food to feed Dean if John was going to be home soon. He would need to eat. Dean smiled, tears welling up in his eyes and nodded at the four year old. “I will, Sammy… Just want to make sure you got enough, okay buddy?”

Sam nodded, oblivious to what was going on in Dean’s mind. He shoveled his dinner down, almost as if he hadn’t eaten in days. Dean knew that Sam was growing. Knew he _needed_ the extra nutrients. Dean could survive. He had before. Sam pushed his bowl forward- empty. Dean smiled and filled Sammy’s bowl half full this time. He glanced in at the liquid and figured there was enough in there that if he plugged his nose, he could get it down. He just needed to wait until Sam went to bed. 

Sam finished his food and Dean set about cleaning the room. John wouldn’t let housekeeping in, so it fell to Dean to make sure that everything was in place. He gathered up the dirty clothes, throwing them in the laundry duffel. Dean took Sam’s bowl and spoon into the bathroom to wash and soaked a washcloth while he was there. He took the washcloth and wiped down all of the hard surfaces in the room. John had a tendency to get rock salt on everything. Dean swept the errant salts into his hand and dumped them in the almost full trash. He straightened John’s bed and rescued the half full whisky bottle from underneath.

Finally satisfied with the way their room looked, Dean climbed onto the bed with one of the science books he grabbed Sam from the library. They settled down to read until John got there. They were halfway through learning about _Conservation of Energy_ when John showed back up. He stumbled in- no surprise to Dean. “Sammy… Go brush your teeth. Make sure to get them all, okay?”

Sam nodded and padded off to the bathroom. Dean jumped from the bed and steered John toward the table. He tipped the remainder of their supper into a bowl and pushed it in front of John. “Eat.”

John sniffed and pulled the bowl close. Dean shook his head and turned away from his father. He watched as Sam left the small room and climbed on the bed. Dean steeled his breath and blinked the tears from his eyes.

“Dean… I’m-” John started and then stopped. He shook his head and sighed.

“Whatever, Dad. Just eat and go to bed. Sammy and are gonna go to sleep. We’re all packed up for tomorrow. Just toothbrushes in the bathroom.” Dean peeled back the covers and settled in next to Sam. He pulled his brother tight and willed himself to relax. He hoped Sammy was asleep as his stomach started to growl and hurt. He swore right then that when he got older, he would never go to bed hungry.

**Author's Note:**

> **"Teach Your Children"**
> 
>  
> 
> _You, who are on the road must have a code that you can live by._  
>  _And so become yourself because the past is just a good bye._  
>  _Teach your children well, their father's hell did slowly go by,_  
>  _And feed them on your dreams, the one they fix, the one you'll know by._  
>  _Don't you ever ask them why, if they told you, you would cry,_  
>  _So just look at them and sigh and know they love you._
> 
>  
> 
> _And you, of the tender years can't know the fears that your elders grew by,_  
>  _And so please help them with your youth, they seek the truth before they can die._  
>  _Teach your parents well, their children's hell will slowly go by,_  
>  _And feed them on your dreams, the one they fix,the one you'll know by._  
>  _Don't you ever ask them why, if they told you, you would cry,_  
>  _So just look at them and sigh and know they love you._


End file.
